by Kim Bowman
“You expect me to believe your mother allowed you to miss even one country ball, lawn party, or dinner party where she had a chance to find a husband for you? More than likely you scared all the fops off with your haughty attitude… or bit them.” He raised his hand and extended the index finger. “I know I learned my lesson.”
The elegant room started to spin and Juliet grabbed the arms of the chair to steady herself. Annabella? Bit the duke? Surely not! A vision of her friend in one of her fits of temper filled Juliet’s mind. Yes… she could well have bitten him, but surely that had been when she was younger. “I…” She offered a weak smile.
He feigned surprise, even placed his hand over his heart. A gold signet ring inscribed with an intricate design flashed, drawing Juliet’s gaze.
“Do not tell me you have already forgotten the day you…”
Juliet’s heart thumped so hard she was sure the duke could hear it slam into her ribs. The insistent pounding filled her ears, drowning out his voice. She couldn’t breathe. She swallowed, but a knot had lodged in her throat and refused to permit air to pass. Annabella had persuaded her how easy it would be to fool the duke.
“I just don’t think I can do it. I won’t know the proper thing to say, the suitable way to behave…”
“Oh fluff. You are a lot more like a lady than I. Just be yourself and avoid the duke as much as you can. I have only seen his grace a handful of times, and not at all in the past four years. He never paid any mind to me, except for an occasional cursory glance to show his disapproval at something I had said or done. I’ll send a message with Mother’s name in a couple of days — a week at the most — and request that you join her in Bath. Instead, you will come back here to Wyndham Green, Mother will be none the wiser, and I will have avoided his grace.”
How foolish they’d been to believe such a deception could work. While the duchess had insisted Juliet be schooled along with Annabella — especially after Annabella had started sounding more like a servant than an aristocrat — an education above her class offered little help if she didn’t know what in blazes the man was talking about. She wasn’t even going to last through this meeting without the duke realizing she was a fraud.
I will never forgive Annabella for this. It would serve her right if Juliet exacted revenge by using the pretense that she was Annabella to confess to the duke that she was madly in love with Vicar Hamilton and couldn’t bear the thought of marrying anyone else. But her mother had refused to consent to the marriage and had only sent her to London to put distance between the two lovers. Beg the duke to intervene and arrange for her and the vicar to be married posthaste.
“She didn’t have a choice.”
“She? You mean you, don’t you?”
Uh oh. Juliet’s mind raced for a way to correct her blunder. “I-I was referring to m-my mother. She hasn’t been invited to anything, which means I haven’t.”
“That’s ridiculous and absurd. She’s the Duchess of Wyndham. Everyone would want her at their party.”
“Not if she’s been given the cut.”
“By whom?” Grey’s voice mixed disbelief with anger. He put his arms on the desk and leaned forward. Even with the huge desk acting as a barrier, the man seemed to loom over her.
Juliet faltered, cursed herself for letting her anger cause her to speak out of turn. As a servant, keeping her mouth shut was second nature to her. She should have just apologized for inconveniencing the duke and told him she intended to return to the country as soon as Lady Charity had mended. Why had she let her loyalty to Annabella cause her to ignore good sense?
When Juliet remained silent, the duke released an exasperated sigh and continued. “I can assure you that no one would dare risk social suicide by excluding or snubbing the Duchess of Wyndham, no matter who she is and how abhorrent her daughter happens to be. Such an act would ensure the person responsible was removed from my good graces. And no matter how disliked you and Regina are—”
“You would.”
Juliet no longer cared how improper it was to interrupt. The insufferable man had insulted the duchess and Annabella quite enough. From the way his nostrils flared and his eyes widened, the duke would probably toss her out on her backside. But she didn’t care and showed it by locking her eyes on his and refusing to look away.
“Excuse me?”
I ain’t the one you should be apologizin’ to, ye arrogant, hoity-toity a— She clamped her mouth shut.
When she remained quiet, the duke furrowed his brows and snapped, “Enough word games, Annabella. What the deuce do you mean?”
Juliet took in a breath, puffed out her chest, composed herself. Her eyes never left his. “You are correct, your grace. No one would dare chance your disapproval. They all do their utmost to follow your lead. So when you make it abundantly clear you harbor resentment toward someone, there ain’t a member of the ton who won’t follow your lead and snub that person.”
The duke’s eyes widened into pools of deep blue sheltered from the sunlight. “I beg your pardon, Miss Price. Are you implying that I am responsible for you and your mother suffering some sort of social exile?”
Juliet fought back tears. She refused to let him see her cry. Instead, she took a couple of breaths to regain her composure. “You have made no secret of the fact that you consider her gr— my mother less than deserving of her status. You have had no contact with her since the passing of your father and have not even visited Wyndham Green. Do you think it has gone unnoticed by the ton or the neighbors?”
The duke visibly paled.
Good!
****
Grey’s mind rejected what she said. But in his heart, he knew she spoke the truth. Pure anger fueled by hurt reflected in the depths of her liquid gold eyes. He had been prepared to explain to his stepsister he was very sorry for the inconvenience, but he simply could not host her for the season. Now, however…
“Annabella, I never intended… I had no idea… that is to say…” He ran his hand through his hair. What should he say? What could he say to make this right? “I am truly sorry.”
Grey held his breath, waiting for her reply. Her face was stoic, unreadable. Nothing at all like the spitfire who had bitten him at the wedding of their respective parents…
She had looked adorable in her pink satin dress… and miserable. He had crouched in front of his new stepsister and asked her if she would like to join the dancing. The girl had glared at him, the fury in her eyes so fierce he swore daggers would fly out any minute and embed into his chest. Grey had reached out and tapped his finger on her nose, and the chit had bitten him and then run off. He remembered thinking how brave and rebellious the girl was. And while the beautiful young woman before him was definitely defiant, something seemed… off. He couldn’t quite explain how, but this creature was a far cry from the impertinent scamp with the sharp teeth.
But that had happened several years ago — ten, to be exact — and he hadn’t seen her at all in the past four years, so mayhap the girl had just matured and now knew her place. Her body had certainly matured into that of a lovely young woman, as her ill-fated curtsey had demonstrated all too clearly. His blood stirred at the memory and he ruthlessly tamped down the inappropriate response.
The silence dragged on, oppressive, and it settled on his shoulders, weighing them down. Stubborn hoyden. Grey rose and walked to stand in front of her. She tilted her head back and continued to stare at him as he sat on the edge of the desk.
No. She had simply learned how to control her outbursts better. Now that he had moved closer, it was obvious the chit was shaking with the effort to hold her tongue, and razor-sharp anger sparked in her eyes.
Her very seductive, mesmerizing cat’s eyes.
Grey shook his head. That was not the proper direction for his thoughts to wander.
“I know nothing I can say will make up for all the pain my carelessness has caused, but I do hope, even if you can’t forgive me, you’ll let me at least try to undo some of
the damage I’ve brought about.” He paused. “You must believe me, I had no idea — nor did I in any way encourage anyone to treat you or your mother thusly.”
She lowered her head, and Grey’s eyes followed, his gaze settling on the ample amount of flesh visible above the bodice of her dress. The pale blue made her sun-kissed skin shimmer, and the sight knocked the air out of him.
The girl stirred, sitting up straighter in her seat. Then she took in a deep breath, expanding her chest. She exhaled and let her gaze meet his. “As you wish, your grace.”
She stood and Grey followed, taking her hands in his. The gentle graze of her fingers on his palms sent a warm jolt up his arm that pooled low in his belly, and it took him a moment to collect himself so he could speak.
“In that case, please accept my invitation to stay as long as you and your aunts would like. I will do my utmost to ensure that by the time you return to the country, the ton will be eating out of the palm of your hand.”
The smile she bestowed upon him made his heart slam against his chest. The dimple-cheeked grin reached all the way to her eyes, making them gleam a brighter golden brown, and the force was so jarring Grey was sure his heart actually stopped momentarily.
“That is very kind, your grace. How pleasant it is to see you are as kind and compassionate as your father, the late duke. And I accept your invitation so that Lady Charity may recover from her injury.” She glanced at the door. “And I should go check on her, see if she needs anything.”
Grey released her hands. “Of course. Please let me or the staff know if you need anything.”
She dropped into a more graceful curtsey than when she had first entered the study, making certain to keep her dress in place, and walked toward the door. A smile lifted his lips when she stepped across the threshold without a backward glance, closing the door gently behind her. He had to admit, he’d expected a hearty slam.
Once alone, Grey raked his hands through his hair again, cursing himself. He had criticized his brother for wanting to leave. Had ranted like a madman about how disappointed he was that Will would so callously abandon his duties. And yet Grey had done the same thing. Now that his father was gone and he was the head of the family, Regina, along with her daughter, was as much his responsibility as the servants working for him and tenants living on his lands. More so.
He returned to his chair and tried to concentrate on the ledgers, but his mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of his young houseguest and how she must have felt over the past few years. Next to virtue, a girl hoping to marry held her reputation of utmost importance. Grey would never consider a match with someone who was socially unacceptable, and neither would the other gentlemen of his acquaintance. He needed to set things right so Annabella could have a chance at a decent husband.
But how?
It wasn’t like he could go up to members of the ton and say, “Pardon me, did you snub my stepmother and stepsister because you thought I had?” That would certainly send tongues wagging about him, Regina, Annabella, and his father all over again, and Grey could not allow that. Better to show through his actions that they had his support. Which meant he would have to tolerate her presence for the time being. Well, he had no one to blame but himself.
But that did not mean he had to be punished for an entire Season to make amends. A dinner party, perhaps a ball or two, and maybe taking her to see a few London sights should undo the damage. And of course he’d mention to the right members of the ton how he was glad he finally convinced his dear stepsister to visit. Then he’d just as casually confide that his stepmother had been unwilling to leave the country since his father’s death because she was so heartbroken and that poor Annabella had been reluctant to leave her mother’s side until recently. By the time he was through, the ton would be clamoring for Regina’s presence at all their social events, and every bachelor in Town would beg for Annabella’s hand.
It wouldn’t make up for the past few years. Absently, Grey tugged the silken bell cord to summon Higgins.
Nothing will.
In short order, the door opened and the butler stepped inside. “Yes, your grace.”
“Please inform Lady Harmony I wish to speak with her.”
The servant gave him a stiff bow. “Straight away, your grace.”
While he waited, Grey shuffled through the invitations he had received. To most he had not yet sent a response, loathe to spend time at balls and parties where mamas were constantly throwing their daughters at him. But he would have to disregard his personal dislike of such events for Annabella’s sake.
Finding the invitation to Lord and Lady Evanthorne’s ball, he penned a note informing them he would be attending with his stepsister and her aunts. Lady Evanthorne was one of the biggest gossips in London. By evening, everyone would know Annabella was Grey’s guest and that she would be accompanying him to one of the Season’s most anticipated balls.
As he was sealing the message, the door was pushed inward by one of the footmen, who held it open while Higgins glided in.
“Lady Harmony, your grace.” The butler stepped aside.
She towered over Higgins by almost a head, even when she curtsied. Her blue dress reminded him of the ones his grandmother had worn. High collar with frills around the neck, long sleeves with white lace trim. She carried herself in a regal manner rather like Grandmother’s also. Those steely eyes had softened a bit since she'd gutted him with them after the incident with the carriage.
“Thank you, Higgins. Would you please have this delivered.” Grey held out the note. “Lady Harmony, please be seated.”
Higgins retrieved the missive. “Will there be anything else, your grace?”
“Not right now, thank you.”
“Very well, your grace.” Higgins bowed and exited, and the footman followed, closing the door behind them.
Grey sat back in his chair. “I thought it might be fitting to have a small dinner party to introduce Annabella to some of my closest acquaintances.” More specifically, so my good friend Lord Fenimore’s gossipy wife can go tell everyone about the delightful dinner party I threw for my beloved stepsister.
Lady Harmony tapped her finger to her cheek. “Hmm… you know, I do believe Annabella’s birthday is in just a few days, on the ninth. What a grand gesture to have a party in honor of her birthday!” She clapped her hands together. “Splendid indeed!”
Grey gave her a curt nod. “Very well. I will take care of the invitations, if you could make arrangements with Cook for the menu. And, er…” He paused, unsure how to bring up such a delicate matter as cleavage, but he couldn’t have the girl embarrassing herself — or him, by continuing to fall out of her clothing.
Lady Harmony’s eyes sharpened and Grey suppressed a shiver. “Yes, your grace?”
“When I was speaking with Lady Annabella, she seemed to be… er, not attired… appropriately.”
The older woman stiffened. “My niece was inappropriate?”
“Well… that is… perhaps country ways are a bit different than I recall.” He sighed. “Here in Town… a lady’s gown.” He fluttered his hand at his chest. “During the day, a lady doesn’t—” He sighed in frustration.
“Perhaps you’ve noticed how lovely my niece is and feel she needs to show a bit of modesty while in your company, your grace?”
Grey nearly choked on his next breath. Was that a twinkle of merriment glinting in her eyes? “That is not precisely how I would phrase it, Lady Harmony, but, er…”
She shot out of the chair and headed for the door. “I shall see to it immediately, your grace. Right away. There is much to do. Much to do, indeed.”
A mixture of relief and perplexity swirled through Grey and he tried to shake the feeling that he hadn’t exactly been in control of that interview. He shook his head as he watched the woman leave his study, then jotted down the information Petry would need to compose invitations for the dinner. Having diminished some of his guilt, he concentrated on the work he needed to finish.
>
Now if I can just get through the next few weeks…
Chapter Four
Juliet’s stomach fluttered in time to the lilting rise and fall of the conversation around her. Thank goodness the duke was having only a small dinner party. It was all just a bit overwhelming as it was. Unable to remain on her injured foot for long, Lady Charity remained seated on a Grecian couch, and Juliet hovered nearby. Keeping her eyes cast downward, she idly toyed with the clawed foot of the green velvet couch with the tip of her shoe.
“Gracious sakes, dear,” said Lady Charity through a tight smile. “Nothing interesting on the floor. Try to keep your eyes lifted.”
With a sigh, Juliet did as she was told, and not a moment too soon. A stout handsome lady approached amid the rustle of her satin gown in sapphire blue. Fiery rubies and icy diamonds glittered from overlarge eardrops that danced as she walked. What was her name? Lady… something-more?
Hrmph, should be penny-more with all those jewels y’ve got dangling. That was it! Lady Fenimore.
“My dear Annabella,” she murmured, her smile reminiscent of a cat’s that had gotten into the cream. “What a lovely name.” She glanced across the room before turning her attention back to the conversation. “Wherever has your brother been hiding you?”
From the corner of her eye, Juliet caught the movement and turned in time to see the duke’s lips thin briefly as he met her gaze. Her breath hung in her throat and she tore her eyes away from him to smile at Lady Fenimore.
“I-I’ve been staying at Wyndham Green with the — my mother,” managed Juliet, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Your mother did not accompany you, dear?” asked Lady Fenimore. Her tone was pleasant but her eyes contained heated interest.
Juliet’s knees took up a fine trembling. “I…”
“My niece, the Duchess of Wyndham, has had a difficult time mourning her husband,” said Lady Charity in a firm voice.
“Maude! It is you. Why, it’s been ages since I’ve seen you.” Harmony hurried over, her plump lips stretched into a pleased smile.